Page:Bianca, or, The Young Spanish Maiden (Toru Dutt).djvu/17

Rh to come to me; he loved me with his full pure little heart from the first day I saw him, and I love him too." "You are a great reader of poetry, aren’t you Miss Garcia? Maggie was telling me that you knew every poem that was ever penned even by the obscurest writer." "Then Maggie was telling about things that she does not know for I am not so learned as that. Papa is somewhat of a poet; he wrote a volume of poems in Spanish some years ago; he contributes a piece or an article now and their to the Magazines?" "What was the piece you were repeating while laying Will to sleep?" "Were you in the room?" Said she surprised: "No,I was sauntering at the door, did not you see me?" "No,my lord." And she shook her head. Since she was alone with him. her manner had involuntarily changed towards him; she was subdued; she felt that this man walking by her side, had a power over her heart which perhaps he himself did not know. She loved him with all the fire and glow of her warm southern blood. Did he love her? She never asked the question to herself, she never thought of it. Sometimes a word from him would make her believe so, and then the red blood would send a dark flush on her olive cheek, a bright flash would come into her brown eyes, but she never let herself be deceived; a minute, a second, the cheek would glow and then become pale as usual. "Would you mind repeating the piece to me?" Said Lord Moore. "I do not remember it all. Papa has all the poems of the author of it, a Mr. Lloyd in his library. What I can remember, I shall repeat.” And in a rather hesitating and rapid voice she began, but as she went on, her tones became natural; she said the five or six verses she remembered, then added,—”It makes one think of father;"

She said this in a low tremulous voice not usual with her. Lord Moore did not reply; he continued to smoke his cigar in a thoughtful way. She was become very dear to his heart; this